


Westeros: A Collection of Character Vignettes

by Priestess_of_Groove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Childhood, Death, Drama, Gen, General, Marriage, Podfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestess_of_Groove/pseuds/Priestess_of_Groove
Summary: My collection of ASoIaF/GoT-themed character vignettes inspired by prompts.  Tags will be added as necessary.The ASoIaF/GoT fanfiction community on Reddit (r/Citadel) has begun posting weekly prompts and this will be where I post my fulfillment of those prompts.January 24th, 2021: The prompts are back!  Expect new prompts here and there.January 27th, 2021: Catelyn Speaks to Hodor posted
Comments: 58
Kudos: 36





	1. Index

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes** \- This index will be added to with each fulfilled prompt. Enjoy!

**Index**

**Chapter 2:** Cersei Contemplates her Childhood (437 words)

 **Chapter 3:** Margaery Considers her Marriage Prospects (497 words)

 **Chapter 4:** A Woman Sees a Maester (996 words)

 **Chapter 5:** Ned Stark Apologizes to Jaime Lannister (615 words)

 **Chapter 6:** Catelyn Speaks to Hodor (575 words) - includes link to podfic!


	2. Cersei Contemplates Her Childhood

**Prompt:** Your least favorite character reminisces about their childhood.

\--------

She stared at the far doors of the throne room and waited. Her back was straight and poised as she sat on the throne. 

The dragon bitch was on her way. She had watched from above as the black dragon razed every single scorpion that had taken months to construct in a matter of minutes. The Golden Company, once an intimidating force, had been reduced to ash by a single dragon. While it seemed the Unsullied had suffered significant losses in the far North, their diminished numbers had not proved to be a weakness. A single dragon was worth more than even all of them combined.

Tyrion would be with her. Her valonqar. She clenched her hands at the thought of his horrendous face. Not too hard. She was mindful of the vial clutched in her right hand. Well, she would not give him the opportunity to choke her to death.

_ I should have dropped him down the same well as Melara Hetherspoon, _ she thought.  _ As soon as I’d heard. Why hadn’t I? _ Tyrion had only been a toddler on that fateful night. 

_ Jaime _ . Her lips trembled as she thought of Jaime. Not the one-handed traitor who was busy wetting his cock in that beastly woman’s cunt. Her golden-haired twin, the best sword in the Seven Kingdoms. The one who could be just as vicious to all of the other sheep. His pleasure, his true smile had only ever been reserved for her. But even before he’d lost his hand, when they were children, he’d always been protective of Tyrion. He hadn’t stood for her cutting words. Now that she thought about it, he always followed her whenever she made mention of Tyrion. Had he suspected her ill intentions? He still hadn’t stopped her from pinching Tyrion. Would he have stopped her if she’d lifted him from his crib and tried to sneak away?

She narrowed her eyes.  _ He probably would have. _ No matter how ugly, how... _ wrong _ Tyrion was, Jaime had always been a protective brother.

And now, at the end of at all, her golden twin, her other half was nowhere to be found. His protection no longer extended to her. Her rage built as she remembered the betrayal in his eyes when the Mountain had unsheathed his sword after their quarrel over aiding the North. How could he have been so stupid? In the end, he had betrayed her and for their disgusting imp of a brother no less.

The roar of the dragon as it passed over the Keep jarred her from her thoughts. She unstoppered the vial. It was time for her long farewell.


	3. Margaery Ponders her Marriage Prospects

**Prompt:** A youngest child ponders their marriage prospects.

\--------

“You will be queen.”

“I was already queen.”

Her grandmother snorted in an unladylike manner. “If you can call being married to that fop queen.”

“Grandmother, please. I’d prefer you not speak ill of the dead,” she said, giving her grandmother the coldest look she could manage.

“It’s just as well. We would’ve had to take drastic measures had he managed to plant a child in you,” her grandmother said with a long-suffering sigh. “Your father should never have agreed to that farce. Having the biggest army does not nullify his lack of claim to the throne when his other older brother was yet still alive.”

Margaery stayed silent.

“We have a chance to turn this around and preserve our standing in the eyes of the  _ real _ king.”

_ Lord Tywin? Or Joffrey? _ She thought, but so much of their conversation passed merely in the looks they exchanged.

“If things turn out, you will be betrothed once more. Pray this betrothal sticks,” her grandmother said and then bustled out of her room.

Margaery sighed and sank into the seat in front of her mirror. It was the only place she felt she could truly see herself and not only the woman her grandmother had groomed her into being. She picked up her brush and began running it through her hair.

_ Marry Joffrey _ Baratheon _. I can hardly wait, _ she mused, allowing a slight sneer to curl her lip. Revulsion shuddered through her; the boy’s origins were only a part of it. Renly may not have been willing to lie with her, but he told her stories. Joffrey tormented his brother and sister. As a mere babe, he gutted a pregnant cat and pulled out her kittens to show his father. Even in his short time as king, he had a reputation for maiming his subjects for the smallest of slights. She was looking forward to pledging to him about as much as walking across a field of sizzling coals.

But queen she would be.

_ A pity we could not broker a deal with King Robb Stark, _ she thought wistfully. He sounded every inch the king Joffrey could only dream of being. He had already gathered the northern houses and had marched them into battle. He had gotten the best of Ser Jaime Lannister and taken him captive. He had even briefly outwitted Lord Tywin Lannister. Even with half the numbers Renly had, he had proven himself formidable.  _ By all accounts, he is quite fair to look at, _ she mused with a dreamy smile.

She hadn’t dared inquire about him. First, his mother had already promised his hand to a Frey— _ Hardly, a house deserving of the marriage to a king. _ While his cause was just, it simply was not winnable. Lord Tywin had the position, he had the soldiers, he had the  _ power _ . A few lucky battles did not a war win. 

So Joffrey Baratheon it was. If the stories were true, she prayed this match did not kill her.


	4. A Woman Sees a Maester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes** : This one features a character from my long fic _The Dragon's Roar_. I'm sure those who are familiar will spot him.

**Prompt:** The maester isn't the smartest person in the room.

\-------

Maris tried to stand still as she felt the maester poking and massaging her stomach. The only man who had ever touched her was her husband and although she recognized the maester was doing as he had been asked, she felt guilty all the same. Her husband could be the jealous type.

The maester was bald except for a full white beard that ended in a point. As he put his ear to her stomach, she found herself looking at the maester’s acolyte. It was different seeing a young man in his prime. He wore plain grey robes to denote his status as an acolyte and he merely had three links in his chain to the maester’s twelve. He was handsome with hair as dark as the soil on the banks of the Honeywine. He held the bag with the maester’s potions and tonics, but otherwise stood silently and politely on the other side of her room.

“The babe appears to be doing fine, my lady. It’s quickened, I see. I suspect it will be another four to five months before the birth,” he said.

She smiled back, but it lacked enthusiasm. Her heart was pounding beneath her breast. Normally, she would be consulting with her midwife, but she had followed her advice for her last three babes and every single one had been a girl. Her husband owned a few merchant vessels and he was growing impatient for a boy who could inherit.

_ “If this one is not the boy I need, I will throw you and it into the river!” _

She quailed under his anger. He had been such a caring man when she’d met him, but with each girl she birthed, he had grown distrustful and sour. He’d even accused her of whoring around with the dockworkers. She’d been forced to beg on her knees and suck his cock to show her faithfulness. Never had she felt so demeaned.

_ “Remember, Maris, if not for me, you’d be a whore on the street!” _

The maester began packing up and she sprung into action. “Muh-maester, please. I was wondering if you might tell me if the babe is to be a boy?”

His face brightened and he smiled at her. “From the way the child was sitting, my lady, it is likely to be a boy.”

The acolyte huffed. They both looked at him. He cleared his throat and said, “Pardon, my lady. It’s the river.”

“Quite,” she said with a polite smile. “Maester, I must be sure it’s a boy. Is there any way?”

“I see, well, if I’m not mistaken there are a number of ways. Some are better than others.” He pulled a book from his bag and leafed through it. “Let’s see. Make yourself a cup of mint tea and mix it with a spoonful of lavender honey every day—”

Maris blanched. “Lavender honey? Every day? No, no, I can’t.” Lavender honey was so expensive!

“Hmm...well, this method is not quite as good. Brew the mint tea and stir in the fresh petals of a lavender flower—”

The acolyte cleared his throat again. “Forgive me, Maester Garrus, but lavender is not in season. Fresh petals would be difficult to come by.”

“Hmm...dry petals might do. Forgive me, my lady, but could you direct me to your kitchens? There is a tonic I can make. I may need to borrow some ingredients, but it’s simple enough. If you please—”

She clapped her heads. “Phedra, show the maester the way to the kitchen. Make sure he has everything he needs.”

Her servant curtsied and led the maester down the stairs. Maris turned back, wringing her hands and ready to pace when the acolyte stepped into her path.

Maris gasped before settling down. Her nerves felt like they were on fire.

“I apologize for startling you, my lady, but listen...forget what the maester said. None of it works.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“There is no remedy that will give you a boy over a girl. That’s not how that works.”

Her eyes widened and she felt her breath start to come out in short gasps. “B-but I-I need a  _ boy _ . If my next child is not a boy, my husband, he...he will be very cross with me.” Tears were in her eyes and she was staring up imploringly into his face.

He was clearly aghast at her revelation and he set his mouth into a resolute frown. “There is one thing you can do, my lady.”

“Name it,” she whispered.

“Pray.”

She blinked at him again. “Pardon?”

“Pray. Pray to the Seven. They will surely hear your plight and answer.”

“How often? Do I need a specific candle? Pray to whom?”

He shook his head at her questions. “Pray as you see fit, my lady. Pray to them all or pray to one, but pray. They will surely deliver.”

Her breathing began evening out once her panic started bleeding away. “What is your name, acolyte?”

“David, my lady. I am Acolyte David.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

A few moments later, the old maester came bustling in. He made a grand showing of the lavender tonic. She was to use a spoonful for every cup of tea. Once the flask was dry, she was to send a note and he would fill it once more. She graciously took the tonic, paid for their service, and watched them leave.

Later that evening, she tried the spoonful of tonic. It made her tea so bitter that she visibly shuddered, but she forced herself to drink it. She thought of the young acolyte. Before settling into her bed, she set herself in front of the small alcove in their house that featured statuettes of the Seven. She prayed.

She prayed every morning and every night.

Four months later, tears of joy were streaming down her face as the midwife announced the delivery of a boy.


	5. Ned Stark Apologizes to Jaime Lannister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** \- This requires a bit of context. I would consider this a 'missing' scene from my larger wip _The Dragon's Roar_ , but we haven't yet reached the point where the kingdoms know why Jaime killed the Mad King. We're not too far off from that. Anyway, enjoy!

**Prompt:** Character A did something impressive. Character B, however, is not impressed.

“You told us to meet you here, Ned. What is it you wanted to say?” Lord Cerwyn said. 

Eddard Stark opened his mouth but then paused. There had never been a time where he had ever spoken so openly in front of most of the lords of Westeros. He’d asked his fellow northern lords to spread the word around to as many as they could manage. He was standing just above them on a landing halfway up a staircase just outside the Red Keep. He saw Ser Edmure Tully, Ser Garlan and Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Beric Dondarrion, Lord Manderly, his friend Lord Howland Reed, Prince Oberyn Martell, and countless other lords from across Westeros.

Aemon had only made the announcement the night before that Lord Jaime Lannister had murdered King Aerys I to prevent him from destroying the city. Everyone’s eyes instantly went to Lord Jaime who was sitting right next to him. Despite this vindication, he was glaring, but he sat up in his chair and tipped his head back to look down on them all. The Mad King had set barrels of wildfire around the city that had been purged thanks to Jaime’s knowledge. The whole time they had been sleeping over these barrels that would have exploded at a single spark.

Ned’s own blood ran cold in his veins and he actually shivered. He couldn’t keep himself from looking for his daughters and Robb as if to ensure their safety. Shock and surprise had been on every face.

_ What have I done? _ Ned had thought, pinching the bridge of his nose.

How long had Jaime Lannister lived with the moniker ‘Kingslayer’ that he himself had so generously bestowed upon him? 

_ Why? Why, why,  _ why _ didn’t I ever ask him?  _ He knew why. Jaime had been mocking initially as he sat on the Iron Throne after his seemingly terrible deed. And then Lord Tywin had presented the blood-soaked bundles that were Princess Elia Martell’s children to Robert without so much as a hint of remorse. 

_ Whether I found his attitude acceptable is not the point. His father’s deeds are not his. I  _ should’ve _ asked. I can make this right, _ he decided. His own honor would not allow him to stay quiet, he had made a mistake, and fairness demanded he acknowledged it publicly 

Finally, he began, “I have brought you all here to announce my shame. I, after all, named Lord Jaime Lannister kingslayer. As we all heard last night, I was incorrect to do so.” The entire crowd shifted uneasily. He saw the same fear in their eyes that he’d felt. Their faces were grave but many nodded with his words. 

“Yes, he still killed the king, but is there any cause more worthy than to save the thousands of innocents who live here? I can’t see one. I am here to apologize for the way I have wronged Lord Jaime Lannister. He had to live with this shame when he should have been hailed a hero for his commitment to his knightly vows to protect the innocent.”

Ned searched the crowd and spotted Lord Jaime Lannister. His arms were crossed and he had an expectant look on his face. “Lord Jaime Lannister, you deserve so much more. But an apology is all I am able to give. I am sorry for the way I wronged you.”

The crowd turned to Jaime. The tension he had been holding released. He had righted his wrong. As he watched Jaime, Ned thought his ire would relent, but an amused smirk rose to his face.

“Very touching, Lord Stark. Now, tell me, are you going to suffer the shame and ire of the Seven Kingdoms for the next sixteen years as I did? Hmm?” He looked at the other lords who regarded him still with a mixture of irritation and disdain. “That doesn’t seem likely.” With a flare of his cloak, Lord Jaime turned and strode back inside.

  
  



	6. Catelyn Speaks to Hodor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes** \- The prompts have returned, so this collection will be updated on a semi-regular basis again! 
> 
> This particular prompt comes with a special treat. I recorded audio narration for this particular short. It is my sincere hope that I will be recording audio for previous entries as well, but that remains to be seen. Enjoy!

**Prompt:** An authority figure interacts with their least competent subordinate. (A military commander and his host, a lady and her household staff, a maester and his acolytes - anything goes as long as somebody is in charge.)

\--------

**Catelyn Speaks to Hodor**

[Click of Podfic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjECXelZkxk&feature=youtu.be)

“Hodor?”

The big lumbering man glanced up from where he was feeding the chickens and gave her an enthusiastic smile. “Hodor!”

Catelyn returned his smile with a weak one and fidgeted with her shawl. Could she make him understand? She had her doubts. She wouldn’t normally have bothered speaking to him. The other servants did well enough directing him, but she hoped that her personal request would impress upon him how much more seriously it was meant to be taken.

The moment she heard the king’s banners could be seen, she had leaped into action. Under any other circumstances, she trusted the servants to do their chores, but with the king nearly knocking on the gates, there was no time to be wasted. As a result of the urgency, Catelyn was a bit shorter than usual. When she came out to speak to Hodor, the other servants in the area very pointedly kept their heads down and shied away from her.

“Hodor, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” she said in a slow, even tone.

He stood tall and gave a bob of his head. She hoped this meant that he was understanding, but her heart now pounded in her chest. She would’ve preferred if he’d stayed crouched so that he could not tower over her with his intimidating size. Ned said that he was gentle and had never hurt even so much as a fly. There had certainly been no incidents with her children, but that reassurance did not keep her blood from freezing.

“The king and his family are arriving today. I must insist that you stop bathing in the godswood. It would be unseemly for anyone in the royal party to see you there. Use the servants’ areas for your baths. Do you understand?”

He blinked innocently at her. She thought he might be crestfallen. “Hodor?” The sentence was drawn out and confused.

“You must not bathe in the godswood,” she enunciated.

He frowned and cocked his head sideways.

“My lady?” 

Catelyn turned to a young woman who had a basketful of laundry. The servant licked her lips and shifted nervously on her feet. She gave a makeshift curtsy and said, “We will make sure Hodor doesn’t bathe in the godswood while the king is here.”

“Very well,” Catelyn said and began to walk away. She let out an uneasy breath and tried to shake the tension.  _ I was ridiculous. He’s nothing to fear. _ When she had been preparing herself for this request, she had asked Ned how best to approach him.

“He is simple and slow, but he can be reached.” Her husband had then sighed and muttered something under his breath that she didn’t think she was supposed to hear. “He didn’t use to be that way…”

She had frowned at him but pressed no further on the subject. It was not uncommon for accidents to happen around the castle. One of her great uncles, Halder Tully, had been kicked in the head by a horse as a boy. Although his body had grown around him, his mind had not aged. He had died young and unmarried. She imagined something similar must have happened to Hodor.

_ What’s done is done, _ she thought. She hadn’t concerned herself with Hodor before now and she need not concern herself any further. She set out to make sure Arya was bathing and didn’t try to sneak breeches.

  
  
  
  



End file.
